[She's perhaps a little more used to it. Back home, it had always been the wiser choice to assume that someone was lurking in the mists up above. Superstitions and stories had taught her and people like her not to trust the night. Becoming a part of it had just made her distrust it more.
Her attention snaps toward the sound of the voice but she frowns, tin-enhanced senses focusing on it and picking up nothing but where her eyes and ears fail her something else steps in. She burns steel and hazy blue lines spring forth in her vision, giving her an easy line of sight to every bit of metal decoration, every nail driven into the wood, every latch and lock.
And a cluster leading toward a shadowy corner that could easily match up to a belt buckle, clasps on boots and any number of weapons.]
There's still no such thing as ghosts. [She turns to face the patch of shadow directly.] Just living men with clever tricks.
no subject
Her attention snaps toward the sound of the voice but she frowns, tin-enhanced senses focusing on it and picking up nothing but where her eyes and ears fail her something else steps in. She burns steel and hazy blue lines spring forth in her vision, giving her an easy line of sight to every bit of metal decoration, every nail driven into the wood, every latch and lock.
And a cluster leading toward a shadowy corner that could easily match up to a belt buckle, clasps on boots and any number of weapons.]
There's still no such thing as ghosts. [She turns to face the patch of shadow directly.] Just living men with clever tricks.